


I'm Yours If You Want

by wonderlandiscrumbling



Category: Fright Night (2011), Laws of Attraction (2004)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Teenagers, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, First Kiss, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, Suicide Attempt Mention, Trans Male Character, Transphobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-05-07
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:34:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24056794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wonderlandiscrumbling/pseuds/wonderlandiscrumbling
Summary: Thorne can't help it that he has feelings for Peter, he has since he met him, but he still feels that his friend could do better than someone like him.
Relationships: Thorne Jamison/Peter Vincent
Comments: 9
Kudos: 17





	I'm Yours If You Want

**Author's Note:**

> I just had the idea a week ago of an AU where Peter and Thorne went to high school together, met in school, became quick friends, and were not entirely great emotional support for each other due to their habits of drinking and drug abuse.

Thorne had initially worried he’d be fucked after his parents kicked him out of their house, but thankfully Nick, his band’s bassist was kind enough to open his home up to his friend and classmate. Of course, he doubted it would last much longer if the passive aggressive notes Nick left for him and those dirty looks were anything to go by, but that wasn’t much of an issue. Between the money they made from playing gigs and the money he made from selling drugs to his ex-classmates he was quite sure he could get a flat somewhere in London. 

He glanced down at the sleeping form of the girl next to him in Nick’s bed, her long black hair covering her face, she nuzzled against the pillow groaning in her sleep, he smiled softly as he reached out to stroke his fingers through her hair, his fingertips skimming down along her bare back. She hummed moving closer to him, he couldn’t for the life of him remember what her name was. They’d had a history class together last year, before he got expelled, she apparently remembered him well. He did recall her and her friends giving him shit in the hallways, but last night she’d been hanging all over him after seeing his band perform. He knew perhaps he should be pissed about that, annoyed that all these people who bullied him and hated him suddenly wanted to be his friend or fuck him now that he was in a band, but he didn’t have it in him to get mad about it. He leaned down pressing a kiss against the top of her head before moving to kiss against her shoulder, she pushed her hair back away from her face, she smiled up at him, soft and sweet. He couldn’t help but kiss her, his thumb brushing against her cheek. 

“Morning,” she whispered against his lips, her breath much like his stank of cigarettes and cheap beer.

“Morning love,” he kissed her again nipping against her bottom lip. She tangled her fingers in his mess of brown hair tugging drawing a soft moan from him.

He rested a hand against the small of her back slowly slipping it lower, hand coming to rest against the swell of her ass. It was a picturesque morning until somebody began pounding on the front door startling them.

“Fuck,” he muttered as he pulled away from her, Jenny?

He disentangled himself from the sheets nearly falling as he got up from the bed, it took him two minutes to find his jeans, the girl still sat on the bed watching him as if she was unsure if she should leave or just stay where she was. Thorne returned to the bed, he kissed the top of her head, “I hate to be that guy, but I think you should get out, just in case y’know.” 

She glared at him but moved to get out of bed gathering what she could find of her clothes from the floor and her bra from the nightstand. Thorne left the room closing the door behind himself to give her privacy, he made his way towards the front door where whoever was outside still banged against the door. A small part of him worried it might be a cop, he was quite sure the guy he’d sold cocaine the night before had been an undercover cop. He unlocked the door cracking it open enough just to peek outside, he caught a glimpse of a familiar figure he knew was not a cop, relief washed over him as he threw the door open. 

Peter stood outside, cheeks flushed, eyes red and puffy, he had his arms wrapped around himself as if attempting to comfort himself. He noticed two things outside of the crying; Peter’s head was shaved, his long flowing brown locks gone, and that a duffel bag was sat next to him on the ground. He looked at Throne with wide lost brown eyes as if he just realized that the door had been answered.

“What’s happened?” Thorne asked, he started to reach out to touch his arm, but stopped himself instead shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans.

He’d never been much good at comfort; Peter had never been much good at expressing his emotions. 

“I told my uncle about me, he fucking kicked me out this morning.”

Thorne’s heart broke for him, it really did. This time he did reach for him gingerly taking him by the arm and guiding him into the house, he picked up Peter’s duffel bag bringing it in with them. He closed and locked the door behind them. Peter made his way to the small sofa shoving off the pile of clothes to give himself space to sit, right as he sat Thorne’s one night stand slipped out of the bedroom pausing in the living room as she spotted her classmate sitting on the couch looking distressed.

“Andrea, right?” She asked, an awkward smile on her face.

Peter glared up at her, “that’s not my fucking name and you know it.” He spat at her, he grabbed a beer can from the coffee table and threw it at her nearly hitting her with it.

“Bitch,” she muttered, Peter made to get off the couch, Thorne went to his side grabbing him by the wrist stilling him. They watched as the girl hurried out of the house, muttering under her breath. Once she was gone, the door slamming shut behind her Peter jerked his wrist from Thorne’s grip and flopped back down on the sofa.

Thorne took a seat next to him, “sorry about her, you okay?” 

Peter let out a bitter laugh, he ran his hand back over his head. “No, I’m fuckin’ not. Got any weed?” 

He grinned at that, patting his friend’s leg before getting up from the couch to retrieve his stash from Nick’s bedroom. He returned with two joints and a lighter handing one off to Peter, he lit it for him then lit his own. They sat together in silence, smoking, Peter anxiously jostling his leg, silent tears rolling down his cheeks, and some part of Thorne wanted to reach out and brush the tears from his cheeks and tell him it was going to be okay. 

“What made you tell him?” Thorne asked at last.

“Got sick of hiding it, fucking sick of being made to wear dresses and makeup, if I fucking had to be called her one more time, I was actually going to shoot myself or him. I don’t know anymore.” 

He knew that Peter had planned on telling his aunt and uncle that he was transgender, but the plan had been to wait until he turned eighteen, when he got enough money saved up to move into his own place. He knew it had been Hell on him keeping it in all those years, having to pretend to be somebody he wasn’t, he glanced at the scars on Peter’s wrists remembering just how badly it had gotten to him. 

“I’m sorry,” he offered uselessly.

Peter shrugged, “not your fault. Been thinking too, about my parents, you think they would have been disgusted by me too?” 

Against possible better judgement Thorne took hold of his hand giving it a gentle reassuring squeeze. “They would have loved you.”

He smiled softly, Thorne knew he didn’t believe him, neither of them could know what his parents would have thought of him. Sometimes Thorne was quite sure that if Peter’s parents had never been murdered then they wouldn’t have become friends, he probably would have been better off without ever meeting the musician honestly. 

“I don’t know what I’m going to do now.” 

“Could live with me, until you get things sorted out.”

“I don’t think Nick would like that.”

Thorne smiled, “fuck him, besides between gigs and drug dealing I should be able to get my own flat soon. You could live with me, be nice, wouldn’t it?” 

“Does sound nice, thanks, not sure what I’d do without you.” 

Thorne pressed a kiss to the side of his head, “probably be just fine without me, I don’t do much good for anybody.” He confessed.

“You do good for me; you were the only one who gave enough of a fuck to come see me.” 

He still remembered that night, the days that followed sitting in the waiting room, sitting by his hospital bed just to keep him company, to hold him while he cried, and screamed. It still haunted him a bit thinking about how if Peter’s aunt hadn’t found him when she had that he might not have made it, he stroked his fingers against the scar on his wrist as he remembered it all. 

There were words he found himself wanting to say to him, but they stuck in his throat. Peter reached up brushing his fingers against his cheek, Thorne leaned into his touch, eyes closing as he felt the warmth of Peter’s breath against his face, a moment later his friend’s lips were brushing against his in a hesitant attempt at a kiss before he began to pull away. Thorne leaned in kissing him, rested a hand against the back of his neck drawing him in, needing him to know that he cared, that despite how much of a pathetic junkie he was that he did truly love him, but he doubted Peter loved him back. He wasn’t sure he wanted him to, wanted him to do better, but right now all he wanted was him. Perhaps it was selfish to feel that way he thought as they kissed, Peter nipping his bottom lip before breaking away, forehead resting against his. Thorne brushed the tears from his cheeks, smiled softly at him. He wanted him to have everything.


End file.
